Thursday, October 4, 2018

Introvert Beach

I’m
an introvert. There, I said it.

And
a word to all you extroverts: There’s nothing wrong with being an introvert.
We’re not broken, we don’t need fixed, we don’t need to change, we don’t need
your help to socialize. We don’t WANT to socialize unless we choose to.

Here’s
the deal. Introverts and extroverts are simply wired differently in the brain.
Being around people fills an extrovert with energy, with an introvert it drains
us of energy. You’re like a Duracell battery and we’re like the Chinese
knockoffs I bought at a flea market once called Durracall that lasted for an
hour.

With
all this in mind here is what I really want to talk about. I was at Bethany
Beach in Delaware a few weeks ago. It’s off season so the beach wasn’t full. I
was able to find a spot to enjoy the ocean but still be an introvert-acceptable
distance away from everyone else. About twenty minutes into my stay I hear
newly arrived people walking behind me. Then I hear the snapping open of beach
chairs. The ffflhhh of blankets being unfurled. All this is happening no more
than twenty feet away from me.

Seriously?
You have an entire beach to plop down on and you choose do it closely enough
that I can hear you unwrap the tuna sandwiches you brought along while talking
on your cell phone to Jan back home in Lancaster? I came to listen to the waves
crashing not you describe every millisecond of your vacation to your friend who
hasn’t left the house since 1972.

I
am proposing the incorporation of Introvert
Beach. This stretch of sand will be open only to introverts who will
instinctively know:

How far away to construct their
beach-day kingdom so we don’t interact with each other.

If you’re thinking about getting in the water
but someone else makes their move first, you will know to stay seated until
that person is finished frolicking in the waves.

There won’t be any forced small talk,
shouting for no reason, or screaming children. The sounds of the waves will
battle only with the sound of book pages turning.

More than one person will be permitted
to look for sea shells at the same time because heads will be down so there
won’t be any eye-contact.

I’m
aware that the powers-that-be (in other words: extroverts) may fight this
amazing idea because they want everyone to be like them; befouling the air with
jibber-jabber, making phone calls to hear their own voices and gathering
together in large groups for made-up days of meaning. “Hey, Dan finally cut his
toe nails. We’re meeting at the pub after work to celebrate!”

“Mary
and Dave replaced the water heater in their condo, time to party!” “I’m still
breathing, come to my house for jalapeno poppers and wine!”

In
this case, I have an alternate proposal.

Before
entering the beach, all extroverts must put on a wrist band that will provide
electrical shocks if they try to put up their tent or umbrella too close to an
introvert. The shocks will continue until you have moved an appropriate
distance away. An extrovert may say hello to an introvert but if they attempt
unwarranted small talk, shocks will continue until they move along.

Hopefully by next summer on the eastern shore introverts will have
their own private beach. Next I’m going to work on a restaurant, the Introvert Bar and Grill. There will be
twenty tables but seating for only 8 at a time.